LolaAnn's Supernatural Drabbles & Ficlets
by LolaAnn
Summary: I sometimes drabble a bit or write very short ficlets on livejournal. So far it's silly, humorous stuff. Thought I'd start a place to archive those here as well. Chapters will be unrelated. All Gen, no pairings. Focus on Sam & Dean, but other characters may eventually pop-up.
1. The Cheese Flavored Ones Ain't Bad

**Title:** The Cheese Flavored Ones Ain't Bad  
**Characters:** teen!Dean, teen!Sam  
**Genre**: Gen  
**Rating: **PG  
**Word Count:** 100  
**Summary:** Dean's high and apparently Bobby doesn't have much actual food in the house.

Dean looked up to spot his little brother looking at him with the same pissy, disapproving expression he'd seen thousands of times before… on fifty-year-old school librarians with helmet-shaped hair and polyester pantsuits. Sammy, however, was supposed to be a thirteen-year-old boy. It was _the _goddamn funniest thing he'd seen in his entire life. But, he had just smoked a giant joint.

"Dean! Where've you been and what've you been doing? Bobby's gonna be pissed when he catches you in here eating dog biscuits_. _They're _dog biscuits_, jerk! What's wrong with you?"

"Chill out. The cheese flavored ones ain't bad."


	2. For the Otters

Title: For the Otters  
**Genre: **Gen  
**Characters:** Sam, Dean  
**Summary:** Missing scene from _The French Mistake_ where the guys have to participate in a barely-dressed photoshoot for a charity photo auction.

"This is stupid! They oiled my chest."

"Relax, Sammy. Just go with it," Dean mumbled out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated on striking poses and making eyes at the cute camera girl.

"Have you seen yourself, Dean? If The Village People ever decide to add a new member, you could be _The Hunter."_

Dean looked down at himself and shrugged. Sam had a point. He was barely dressed in flannel boxer briefs that were at least one size too small, and a pair of hiking boots. To top it all off, he had a gun holster slung around his hips complete with a prop pistol. "So? I'm sure the ladies will like it. Bet I set a new record for highest bid in a charity photo auction."

"I have a huge rubber knife strapped to my calf," Sam hissed. "And they didn't even give me any shoes."

"At least I talked 'em outta the banana hammocks. Man! Who knew they made those things in denim?"

"Okay guys," the camera girl interrupted. "You're doing great! Just a few more shots to go. Now I want you two to turn slightly and look at each other _really_ intensely. Like you want to eat each other alive."

Dean did a double take._ "Excuse me?"_

"Come on Jensen, sweetie," she winked. "You know it'll bring more money if you cater to a certain demographic."

"Demographic? What the hell is she talking about?" he asked under his breath.

Sam glared at his brother and whispered back. "What demographic do you think, dumbass? Fangirls are gonna bid on these shots. Fangirls like Becky…" he added with a raised brow.

"You don't mean? OH HELL NO! Screw you Padeleski, this is all your fault!"

"It's Pada_lecki_ and why is this suddenly _my_ fault?"

"Because the so-called charity is the International Otter Adoption Foundation. That shit has fake-you and fake-Ruby written all over it. So yeah, I blame your stupid fake-ass for this. I friggin' hate you, Sam!"

The last part of Dean's tirade came out loud enough to be heard by the photographer. "Awesome work, Jensen!" she gushed. "I'm really buying the passionate anger. You're even in character. Jared, honey, I need you to take your cue from Jensen and dig deep. Make me believe it. Remember, it's for the otters."


	3. A Proud Family of Idjits

**Title:** A Proud Family of Idjits  
**Prompt:** Supernatural, Sam & Dean, decades/centuries later the Winchesters are an entire religion on their own ... with myth, facts and beliefs  
**Prompter: **mangacrack (lj)  
**Genre: **Gen, humor  
**Rating:** G  
**Wordcount**: 321

* * *

"I'm hot," the little boy whined. "Do I hafta wear this?"

The boy's mother sighed deeply. The battle had started again.

"Flannel and denim is what we wear," she stated flatly. "If it was good enough for Sam and Dean it's good enough for you."

"But Ethan's wearing swim shorts. I don't understand why I can't wear swim shorts too. It's a _pool party_ mom! It's like a zillion degrees out here! This stupid shirt's gonna weigh like a thousand pounds when it gets wet. You know that."

"Ethan's a _Methodist_," his mother replied with clear distaste. "You know what that makes him."

"Yeah. He's a _friggin_ _civilian_."

The statement was made with more than a little sarcasm and an audible snort, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Mom.

"Deanuel !" she snapped. "Those are the sacred words of the Apostles Winchester. You will say them with respect. We're a proud family of Idjits and we take our religion seriously. You need to remember that. Do you want to be visited by a Shtriga or eaten by a Rugaru?"

"No ma'am," he uttered grudgingly. "But can I at least have a slice of pizza? _Everybody else is_."

"_Everybody else_ is a bunch of friggin civilians. Praise Dean," she added with great reverence, making the sacred sign of rock/paper/scissors as she did. "I won't let you shame the family. This is Thursday, you know what that means."

"Yeah," was the sullen reply.

"Tell me the story then. I want to make sure you're actually studying your lessons."

"On a Thursday, the Drunken Prophet Chuck decreed that Dean would eat a bacon cheeseburger and Sam would eat a cob salad."

"And…" Mom prompted expectantly, earning an eye-roll from Deanuel.

"_And_ if it's good enough for Sam and Dean it's good enough for me. Praise Dean," he added hurriedly off of Mom's pointed glare. "But do I have to drink the beer?"


End file.
